2021-11-25 - Lunch Hour

It's no longer tourist season, so the clientele on this gray, drizzly day is mostly rough-looking sailors from the shipyards, and not very many of them. Alexander left Henry a text, inviting him to come to the Two if by Sea for lunch. They DO food here, although it's definitely the greasy, heart-clogging kind. Alexander has taken a booth towards the back, where he can keep his back to the wall and look over the room. There's a perky someone behind the bar, who has already delivered Alexander a bottle of cheap beer. The man is more interested in tearing the label to little tiny shreds than drinking it, though, it seems.

Henry is a few minutes late, but he arrives with an apologetic smile and jaunty wave. Perhaps inconguously, he is dressed up this morning: tailored jacket, slacks, tie, the works. The only part of him that seems to defy being put together is, as always, his hair, which remains an unruly mess. He makes a quick pit-stop at the bar for a beer, something a little upscale and imported. "Hey. Sorry I'm late." With a contented sigh, he throws himself into the booth opposite Alexander, his back to the room. "Orientation at the hospiatal this morning ran a little late." A pause. "Good to see you. Can't believe I ran into you randomly yesterday. But then...this is Gray Harbor, I guess." His smile slips sideways.

Alexander doesn't seem bothered by the tardiness. He offers a brief smile to Henry at the jaunty wave, but waits until the other man has sat down to say, "Hey. It's fine." He tilts his head to one side. "How'd orientation go? And it's a small town. And I wander." Another of those brief smiles. "Would have happened eventually. Glad it did, though." Now that they're both there, a server wanders by for food orders, and Alexander just gets some tater tots.

It seems it will be a burger for Henry. He gets a funny look when he orders it medium rare, but that look doesn't phase him and seen he's settling his hands on the table and regarding Alexander once more. "It went well. Much smaller than the hospitals where I did my residency and fellowship, so its a little easier to get the lay of the land. Folks seem nice. Sounds like that haven't had a solid pysch in a while so I've got my work cut out for me." He cuts off, then adopts a slightly rueful expression. "I know you are going to hate this, so can we get the mushy part out of the way? I need to say it."

Alexander nods. "Gray Harbor has an involuntary commitment and psych hold rate several times the average for a town this size; if they don't stand out, the psych ward folk don't usually last long. Especially when half the people who get stuck there can put nightmares into your brain." It's said with a sort of dry humor, like he hasn't done exactly that at least once. "Be careful." He takes a sip of his beer, watching Henry carefully. An exasperated huff of air. "If you want. But just once. And you don't owe me anything."

"At the very least, I owe you a few sincere sentences of thanks. Probably a lot more than that, but I suspect that's all you'll let me give you." There's a hint of a smile with those words before his face goes somber and he stares at a fixed point on the tabletop. He opens his mouth to speak, then stops. When he does speak again, his voice is thick. His eyes are a little misty as he glances up to Alexander's face. "Sorry, I didn't think I'd get emotional about it."

After a rough clearing of his throat, Henry continues, "you saved my life. Honest to goodness. If you hadn't come back to Gray Harbor and said the things you said to me, I would be dead. Or worse. It may have been no big deal to you, but it meant...means...the world to me. I know that none of us have it easy when it comes to...standing out. And we'd be well within out rights to focus on our own survival. But you didn't. And I'm grateful."

Alexander's discomfort is profound; strong enough that he actually squirms in the booth, and turns his attention to his beer. A hefty swallow of the beer is taken. "Don't be grateful," he snaps at the younger man. "Don't. You just...I just..." He scowls at the tabletop. "You were loud and it hurt my head," he mutters, turning distinctly red under his tan. He doesn't look at Henry. "You didn't need to deal with that shit. You seemed like a nice kid." Then he sniffs, and adds, "Not very bright, though. You came back to this shithole. Bad idea."

One gets used to witnessing discomfort in Henry's field. He watches Alexander squirm with zero remorse, and only offers a smile in exchange for the other man's disparagement. "Well, you have me there," he agrees, lifting his beer and clinking the neck of it against Alexander's. "Anything else you want to say before we put this extremely embarrassing exchange behind us?" Though he tries not to, some sparkle of amusement flashes in his eyes.

Alexander starts, briefly, when Henry clinks beer with him. But then he smiles, just a little. "You seem to have done well for yourself," he says, softly. "I'm glad. I am. Just so you know." Then he ducks his head, and picks up the torn off label to start tearing it into tiny little pieces. "You got people? I know your family. They're still around. But spouse, kids, anything like that?"

"Nah," Henry shakes his head, then takes a sip of beer. "Med school and its aftermath were not conducive to relationships. Not that I didn't try...but you know how that goes." One corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Mom and dad are still here. Still in the same old house. Still working for the mill. Sometimes I'm amazed neither of them have been eaten by it." He leans back and regards Alexander across from him. "You? You've been here for the past ten years? Married? Kids? What are you doing for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow?"

"I've heard that. Lot of work." Alexander's expression relaxes into something almost personable. "Yeah. They seem to be doing okay. They stay out of the worst of it." A rusty sort of chuckle. "No. No marriage. No kids. I wouldn't do that to anyone. I'm - was - dating someone. Isabella. Mentioned her the other day. She's in Alexandria. I don't know if she remembers Gray Harbor. Sometimes people don't." He looks away, shrugs. "Thanksgiving with the parents. You remember my dad? Coach Clayton? I do it most years. They're still okay." He goes quiet as their food is delivered, then chomps on a tater tot. "What about you?"

The door to the outside opens, issuing one smaller brunette. Amber was pulling off her coat as the warm hit her, revealing a flowy grey tank top over some leggings, some heeled boots that went halfway up her calves. Did she seem out of her element? Slightly, it sure wasn't that she seemed to know anyone around currently, so she ambles to the bar, heels clicking lightly, then drags herself into a stool, flagging down a bartender to order a cocktail of some sort.

"Ah. Right. Sounded like she was an archeologist or something?...I think one of you mentioned a dig." Henry flashes a smile of thanks for the person who brings the food, then lights into his burger, chewing contentedly for a moment. "I'll have dinner with mom and dad. First Thanksgiving home in a decade." He grimaces slightly. "I'm sure it will be great." He and Alexander sit in a booth, not far from the bar. Alexander has his back to the wall where he can see the room, Henry is facing the oppposite direction.

"And shit, yeah. I forgot your dad was Coach Clayton. Blast from the past. Is he still working at Teddy S?" The sound of an arrival has Henry glancing over his shoulder and giving a friendly uptick of his head.

"Yes. An archeologist. Specialized in, uh, underwater excavations? She dives a lot. I only understand pieces of it," Alexander admits, but with a flash of a grin that suggests he enjoys that. The grin slides into something more sympathetic. "Mm. Good thing about being a doctor - might be an emergency that gets you out of awkward family meals. If you need one." Alexander's eyes nervously tick to the door every time it opens, so he notices when Amber comes in, his eyes following her to the bar. Then staying there. He's just thinking, but from the outside, it definitely looks like a creeper stare. "He retired a few years ago. He and Ma mostly do bridge, make trips up to Seattle to see the cousins, and order me to go help little old ladies with home renovation." A pause. "Did you mean what you said? About trying to help get back memories?"

Bar full of craggy locals? Check. Corner booth? Check. Creeper stare? Check. Amber isn't completely oblivious when she gets looks. It's good to be wary sometimes when you come alone to a bar. But Alexander can see her look back a few times once she gets her drinks, then also look at Henry. Innocently, she lifts her hand, scratching at her throat like her necklace bothers her, but for a moment, it looks like she presses there. Then she looks at Alexander... And just looks. Then she looks away again, brows furrowing in thought.

Henry blinks at the abrupt change of topic. "Yeah. I mean, worth a shot, huh? Likely won't do much with whatever They have been up to, but it might at least be interesting to try and monitor mental and physical response to see what clues we can gather. I'm not as strong as you are...in that way, but it might be good to have an outside observer watching through that lens while we work." He then looks over his shoulder again, following Alexander's hard stare to Amber. "You know her?," he asks, before lifting his beer in a silent salute to the newcomer.

Staaaaaaare. Alexander meets her look with his own flat stare, then visibly jumps when Henry asks about it. "What?" The stare is broken as he shakes his head. "No. But she stands out. She must be new to town." There's no friendly salute in her direction from this guy, but he does attempt to grimace a sort of apology in her direction before he looks away. "Mm. Might be worth a shot. There's...before the storm, there was someone from Over There who called herself the Revisionist. She was changing the way people perceived things in the town. Erasing some things. Changing others. But this seems different. Be interesting to see if anything can be pulled out of my brain, or if it's, uh, external?"

She spots the grimace, looking a tad weirded out still, but curiousity gets the better of her. Amber takes a sip of her drink and repeats the not too covert scratch, then touch of her throat. She aims another look at Henry before she looks away again. Sip. Why was she being so furtive?

At the news that the newcomer stands out, Henry turns more fully on his bench, actually going a little sideways and loping an arm over the back of the booth. "Maybe she's just into you. Or, um...maybe she has a sore throat?" Henry seems to enjoy playing the guessing game with this particular set of gestures, but abruptly realizes that he, too, is staring, and so he turns around again. "I hadn't realize that They were um...distinct enough to have names. But yeah. Let's set up a time to try. I'm particularly interested in seeing what EMDR therapy might unlock. Do you know anything about it?"

Alexander gives Henry a look. "Of the two of us, it's unlikely to be me," he points out, very dry. Then shakes his head. "No. Not Them. The Shadows...I don't...I touched one, once. With my mind. Some people were working for them, feeding people to them." He shudders. "But there are other things over there. Uh, -ists who work for -ors. Like the Exorcist or Revisionist, working for the Doctor or Director. They're not, exactly, hostile. Just alien. Very weird, and not on our side. But not on Their side, either, exactly. I think."

His attention drifts back to Amber, and then there's an abrupt gesture towards Henry's side of the booth. It might be an invitation.

There's that humorously sitcom level amount of awkwardness where a non-covert white girl absolutely gets caught being not covert about being covert, her eyes darting away again, her posture stiffening. After a moment of holding that uncomfortable position, the tension drains out of her in a sigh and she looks skyward before she takes a fortifying sip of something like looks like a lemon drop. She slips off her stool and ambles over. Henry's side was offered, so that's the side she slips into, regardless on who had done the offering.

"Hi." Apparently, she was great at conversation starters.

"Um. Hi!" Henry is so keyed in on what Alexander is saying that he misses the approach of Amber. He is, therefore, slightly started when she shows up right next to him in the booth. Nevertheless, he seems an accommodating and friendly sort. "Henry," he offers by way of introduction. There is a beat and then a rueful grin. "Sorry to stare. You just seemed like a kindred spirit." There's definitely a little extra weight to those last couple of words.

It's clear that, despite the invitation, Henry is the friendly one, here. Alexander just stares for a moment, then says, abruptly, "I don't know you. Who are you?" It definitely sounds like an interrogation. Which he does seem to recognize, after a moment. He clears his throat, and adds, "Alexander Clayton." Another long, awkward pause. "Hi."

There's a nervous smile sent back to Henry, reflexive really, polite, "Amber." the smile hitches and drains away as Alexander seems to have all the social skills of sand paper. "Amber Reyes." Hopefully that answers the question, because she is looking back toward the one that seems like he could smile his way out of a paper bag. "Is that why you two's chakras seem so open?"

"I..." Henry glances askance to Alexander quickly then back to Amber. "...don't know anything about chakras, really. Is an open one a good thing, or a bad thing?" He seems genuinely curious, and maybe even slightly nervous. A feeling he fights off with a sip of beer. After swallowing, however, he does add: "Nice to meet you Amber. Are you new to Gray Harbor?"

"Is that what it looks like to you?" Alexander seems genuinely curious; not at all dismissive of the idea of chakras. "To me, it just looks like you're more real than other people. Not...real. Exactly. Defined. You stand out." He shrugs, clearly frustrated with his own lack of descriptive language. "A lot of people see it as a shine of some sort. I have a friend who hears it in people's songs."

"I moved about the end of February." Amber offers by way of answer to the easiest question, but the other one takes her a minute, like she wasn't too sure if should be saying the thing out loud. "It's unique. There are a lot of people, but none of them stand out like you two." she trails off, thinks, "Well, a few. A lot of the people at the Hope center do too." Something gives her more thought as she stares narrow eyed at Alexander.

"I guess? And... That makes a weird sort of sense, 'cause it definitely seems like your energy is more toward your Third Eye chakra." Another look at Henry, "Both of you do. But-..." she trails off. It wasn't polite to compare energy levels. She sips her drink.

Henry ahs softly, finally starting 'get it'. Definitely slower on the uptake when it comes to Glimmer than his booth-mate. He pauses and considers how he sees it or feels Glimmer. From the length of time it seems to take, and the ripples of frustration coming off of him, it would seem he likewise has difficulty putting it into words. "You are...bigger than yourself. If that makes sense. You...exist beyond the boundaries of your skin?" He grimaces and finishes off his beer. "That sounds creepy. Most people's light is inside of them. For some people the light...emits." While still seeming unsatisfied, he at least nods to that last description.

"Anyway," Henry is quick to say, "a belated welcome to town." A hand fishes for his wallet and pulls out some bills to drop on the table. "Thanks for the invite, Alexander. I gotta get back to the hospital for the afternoon. Let's do it again soon. And set up some time for a memory jog, eh?"

Alexander hums, thoughtfully, to Amber's answer. "Do you remember the last three or four months?" he asks, apparently serious about the question. There's a nod to the mention of the Hope Center. "Ravn runs that. He's trying to starve the dolorphages." When Henry makes his goodbyes, he offers the doctor a warm, if brief, smile. "Don't die. Give me a call when you're free. I'll find us somewhere things aren't likely to explode."

Well, that meant Amber was having to get up again, as apparently she chose the side of the short timer. Considering who she'd then be left alone with, there's a clear look of consideration if sitting back down was the best plan.

"Thanks, I guess?" Three quarters of a year, not too late. "It was nice meeting you." She offers Henry a hand.

Then, again, she'd waffle, but her indecision gets the better of her and she slides back into the booth again across from Alexander, looking awkwardly across at him. Questions, questions, and terrifying answers, "Um, no?" She finishes her lemon drop in a single gulp and lofts it so a bartender can see she needed a refill.

There's a nod for Alexander, a warm smile for Amber, then Henry slips through the bar and out the door.

Alexander watches Henry go, until the door closes behind him. Then he looks a little lost, staring at Amber like he's not quite sure what to do with a stranger, without someone to do all the...social...things for him. So, he focuses. "Most people don't. I mean, most people who stand out that I've talked to don't remember the last twelve weeks or so, if they were in Gray Harbor at the time. So don't think you're crazy, if you don't remember that time. That's normal." He tries a smile, and it sits weird on his face. "Uh. Normal for Gray Harbor. Are you a guru?"

Normal. "Uh huh." When her drink is delivered, she takes another fortifying sip of it. It's clear she looks a little worried about that implication, "Uhm, I prefer yogini? It's a weird distinction, but ah..." she looks like she's trying to find the words and makes a faintly circular waving motion with her hands, as if her hand could sweep the answer up and out, "I don't so much feel... balanced enough to be a true guru. but I can help teach others to find their centers."

"Yogini?" Alexander's head tilts. "Yoga? With the stretching and the bending? Someone recommended that I try that, once. It didn't go well." He smiles, briefly, so it must be a fond memory, no matter what he says about how it went. He finishes off his beer, pushes the bottle away, and concentrates on his tater tots. "Do many people wanna do yoga in Gray Harbor?" It sounds slightly dubious.

It's concerning to Amber that someone says Yoga didn't go well for them, her face telling the story of confusion, wondering, and worry. Maybe it was the fact Alexander was the one saying it. Who knows.

"Maybe... you didn't have the right kind of teacher?" she immediately looks like she worries a bit more about saying that, as if she'd just volunteered herself for him to get a second try. And what was with the smile? Seriously, she was just trying to be nice and espouse her education. "But I teach classes for it at the Annex. It's popular enough between people who want to do it and college students."

"I used a YouTube video," Alexander says, solemnly. Oh dear. "But I was on the beach. Yoga on the beach is supposed to be very soothing. I just felt silly," he says, with a shrug. "But a lot of people seem to like it." He bites another tot; he eats neatly, despite his general scruffy appearance, and wipes his fingers on napkins after every tot is finished. "Why are you here?" A pause. "Gray Harbor, I mean."

Amber's eyes narrow, because how could you not like Yoga on the beach? Unless it was frigid, which it totally could get here. Now she was just questioning his decision making skills. She sits back in her seat and thinks, then shrugs.

"Wanted to move out of my parents' place, seemed like as good a place as any. There was a job opening."

Alexander thinks about that, then nods again. "Makes sense. You should probably not stay. The town eats people," he tells her. "But now that you're here, you probably will stay. It's hard to leave once you're here, if you stand out." He finishes off another fry. "Have you gotten Lost, yet?"

"Only a couple times." Amber admits freely, though only with the slightest of blushes and weird looks, "New town and all. And what does that mean it eats people?" She was going much slower on this second drink, and hadn't responded either way to his suggestions about staying or going.

Alexander's brow furrows. "I don't mean lost. I mean Lost." A pause. "You'll know it when it happens. And I mean that it eats people." He picks up a tot and crunches it dramatically between his teeth. Nom. Once he wipes his fingers and mouth, he continues, "Gray Harbor has a missing persons, suicide, and murder rate significantly above average for a town its size and demographics. The most prolific serial killer in American history was here in the early 1900s. And about a year ago." He clears his throat. "It's a bad place. Be careful."

"O...K..." Clearly whatever Alexander was saying wasn't quite hitting right for Amber, not making a whole lot of sense. And then he just starts talking about murders and suicide and serial killers and her drink somehow seems to get lower and lower until... Well the second drink was gone. She looked torn, then decides, simply sliding the glass aside.

"I will... I guess." She pauses, then seems to make the decision and act at the same time, slipping sideways out of her seat to stand. "It was nice meeting you, Mr Clayton. I gotta get going. Some cooking I gotta do before tomorrow." she explains. Maybe this is where she might offer a card or ask people to come to her class anytime. Instead, she just smiles and raises a hand in a wave, "You stay safe as well."

"Don't die, Miss Reyes," Alexander says. He doesn't seem surprised at the look. It's very possible he gets a lot of looks like that. He hunches his shoulders and settles in to eat his tots. Yum.